My grandparents were my life. Where do I begin? Grandad died back in 1999, grandma had a stroke back in 2001. There home was a haven to me as a young man. The absence of that home in suburban Philadelphia has left me hollow for seven years.

They lived through the great depression. He served his unit in WW II as a medic, she danced with him down at Fort Bragg before he shipped out. Their values as people transcend anything I know, and they spent their lives teaching us, guiding us, inspiring us . . .

I am feeling rather uninspired by the world these days. I want to honor their memory, but all I can do is visit her in the nursing home every few weeks. They gave me a place to live after my second set of parents got divorced. They initially housed my first set. Their house has always been a family hub. Somehow, my extended family remained close, through them.

It has been seven years since this beginning of the end for me. How can I say that when I have only turned 40? I love my wife, but somehow, their household represented so much to me. Shouldn’t my wife, my home, and my dog be enough for me? If I had my choice in life, I would have lived their forever. They were great people, with much character. I feel haunted.